


Well I'm Not Here to Borrow a Cup of Sugar

by TurboNerdQueen



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Gen, Minor Mentions of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 22:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4581975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurboNerdQueen/pseuds/TurboNerdQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan receives an unexpected request in the middle of the night from a friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Well I'm Not Here to Borrow a Cup of Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> Now I think this is either the first or second piece of writing I've done for the RT fandom. May try to do something else with it in the future but for now this is all I have.

Michael glared up at the other man, remnants of smudged face paint still around parts of Ryan’s face. It hadn’t been more than a couple of hours since the crew went their own ways after a heist, off doing who knew what in the shit hole of a city, but Michael had other plans. Someone had put a bounty out on Lindsay- a damn hefty one that made him consider just what she had done this time- and nearly delivered on it. She put up one hell of a fight but didn’t walk away from it unscathed. As Michael patched up her injuries he all but begged her to stay low until things were taken care of. 

Looking for the bastards was challenging enough. There were more people in Los Santos who wanted to see ‘Tuggs’ dead than he anticipated. The most information he could gather was that some small time gang was trying to make a name for itself, and had decided to go after the wrong person. It had been long enough for Michael to doubt he was ever going to catch the bastards who put the bounty out on his wife when he ran into luck.

Well, more like nearly ran over one of the lackey’s from the gang, but he’d take what he could get. Michael shifted uncomfortably at the doorstep of the last person he ever thought of going to for help, but as the clearly exhausted gunman wiped at his eyes and yawned, the arsonist couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the poor sap hogtied in his trunk down below. He felt his anger threatening to get the best of him.

“Oh I’m just having some trouble getting to sleep and figured a nice chloroform cocktail would help me-”

“You are aware you don’t actually drink it, right?” Ryan interrupted, leaning against the door frame of the small apartment and blinking blearily at the younger man. Michael scowled at the snarky remark.

“I’m taking care of shit, alright?” He snapped, what little control over his well renowned anger slipping. Ryan lazily lifted a brow and looked at the other closer, his eyes slowly becoming more focused. After a moment of silence, he stepped back into his apartment and motioned for Michael to follow him.

“You know, Lindsay is a big girl. She can take care of herself.” Ryan said, pointing towards a beige couch in the main room while he ventured off to another part of the apartment. Michael huffed, feeling the tips of his ears grow warm at the comment.

“Sickness and Health, man. I don’t take that shit for granted. Now, how much do you have… and do you have any pliers I could borrow?”


End file.
